Birth of a Nephilim
by GinnytheQueen
Summary: This is my take on Simon's Ascension. His thoughts, doubts, and impressions during the ritual. Simon is ready to drink from the Mortal Cup and become a Shadowhunter, but there's one more dilemma: what name will he choose? Read to find out.


I don't own Simon (I wish I did). All characters and some lines belong to Cassandra Clare.

* * *

The time was coming.

He'd had months to prepare himself for this test, the most important and dangerous of his life, and here he was, moments away, still unsure of what he would tell the Consul when she's ask what name he'd chosen.

Simon knew he wasn't worried about the actual process of the Ascension as much as he'd ought to be. He shoved away the bad thoughts that were haunting him – what if something of his past as a vampire was still inside him? What if he was unfit to became a Shadowhunter? What if it simply didn't work? – No. He was going to become one of them. He was meant to be Nephilim, because if there was something that Simon was completely sure about was that he belonged with them. With Clary, with Izzy and with Jace and Alec. _He had specialness thrust upon him_, Magnus had said.

The Council room was full of light. A great double circle had been painted upon the raised dais at the front of the room, and in the space between the circles were runes: runes of binding, runes of knowledge, runes of skill and craft, and the runes that symbolized Simon's name. Simon knelt in the center of the circles.

There in the front row stood his friends, all in gear. He took a moment to look at them. There was Izzy, beautiful and brave, who was smiling up at him like he was the only thing she saw. Clary, his best friend, whose big green eyes shone with tears and whose hands were tightly clenched together with tension. Clary's parents were next to her: Jocelyn, too had tears in her eyes. He remembered seeing her again after all those months, the night of her wedding, how she had cried when she'd seen him there. Luke was watching him with the same look he used to give baby Clary when she showed him her drawings. A look of pride and affection and love. And Simon couldn't be happier: he did have some memories of his own dad, but blurred and fading. Luke however, was real. Had always been real. He'd always been there for him, because Luke understood what losing a parent meant. He'd always accepted and supported him, even after he'd become a vampire and done terrible things. Clary and her parents had always been family to Simon. They had actually become his family in front of the Clave, when they'd formally requested his Ascension. They had taken him in – again – for the first few months of his training, when he'd had to leave his mundane family but couldn't live in the Institute yet.

Jace and Alec and Magnus had their arms crossed, Maryse sat perfectly straight. Jace was trying to act cool, but the tension was visible in all of them. How strange and unexpected was the bond that tied them together. Jace and Alec had hated him at first, now they were totally okay with him becoming one of them and dating their sister. They had helped – and would continue to do so – with Simon's training, but Jace had not stopped messing with him and being a jerk. Magnus had been the one to approach him and tell him about the Invisible World and he'd helped Simon regain most of his memories. The warlock had been so gentle with him, he'd said so many good things that Simon wouldn't have expected.

Simon Lewis loved them. He loved and cared about his friends with all his heart. Now, in order to be one of them, he had to become someone else. There had been moments of uncertainness and doubt in the past months, thinking about how he would have to leave his family and his mundane friends forever, but Simon had taken his decision._ He was ready_.

Jia Penhallow stood above him and handed him the Mortal Cup. "Take the Cup, Simon Lewis."

Simon took it carefully. The chalice, carved from _adamas_ and dipped in gold, was the size of an ordinary wineglass, only much heavier. His hands were shaking.

"Do you swear, Simon Lewis, to forsake the mundane world and follow the path of the Shadowhunter? Will you take into yourself the blood of the Angel Raziel and honor that blood? Do you swear to serve the Clave, to follow the Law as set forth by the Covenant, and to obey the word of the Council? Will you defend that which is human and mortal, knowing that for your service there will be no recompense and no thanks but honor?"

"I swear," said Simon, his voice unwavering.

"Can you be a shield for the weak, a light in the dark, a truth among falsehoods, a tower in the flood, an eye to see when all others are blind?"

"I can."

"And when you are dead, will you give up your body to the Nephilim to be burned, that your ashes may be used to build the City of Bones?"

"I will."

"Then drink," the Consul said with absolute finality.

_This is it_, Simon thought. _This is the most dangerous part. The moment we see whether I'm worthy_.

He knew there was a possibility he could die, but he shoved the thought away. He brought the Cup to his lips and he drank.

Simon didn't know what he had expected the contents of the Cup to taste like. He had been more concerned about other things. The liquid wasn't like anything Simon had ever tasted. It was sweet but salty, and he couldn't think of anything to compare it to.

The circle that surrounded Simon and the Consul flared up once with a cold, blue-white light, obscuring them both. When he handed the Cup back there was a new glow to it and Simon knew it had worked. Jia smiled at him.

"You are Nephilim now. You may choose a new name or pick one out of the existing or deceased Shadowhunter families."

What could he choose? He'd come to know a lot of Shadowhunter families. Simon had joked about picking Stormwalker or Nightraven, but he had to be serious now. Fairchild? But that was Jocelyn and Clary's name and as much as he considered them family, blood meant a big deal for Shadowhunters, and he didn't have their blood. Lightwood? He glanced at Izzy again. Maybe, one day they would share a name. _Definitely_ not Herondale. He'd looked up old family names on the Codex, and he'd found some who were decent and some who were pretty badass, but they didn't feel quite right. They just weren't _his_. He wanted some connection, some sense of belonging...

"Yes," he told the Consul. "I choose the name Graymark."

Luke's eyes widened in surprise. Jia named him Simon Graymark and told him to arise. The newly-made Shadowhunter rose. The crowd saluted him and started cheering, and Simon was suddenly overwhelmed by his friends. Everyone wanted to touch him and to congratulate him. Luke arrived first.

"I kind of stole your name. I thought – seen that you're not a Shadowhunter and don't use it anymore… I don't know, it was a last minute decision. Hope you're okay with it," Simon said.

The werewolf nodded heavily and hugged him tight, "Of course, Simon, I'm so proud of you."

Jocelyn, too hugged him as she continued to cry. "My baby. My Little Simon is a warrior."

Clary shoved Jocelyn away ("You're embarrassing him, mom") and held Simon tight for a minute. When she broke away she leaned into him again and whispered in his ear "Next step, _parabatai_." She smiled and let him go.

Alec shook his hand. "Now you're officially one of us. I'm so happy for you."

Jace have him a manly pat on the back. "I'm not hugging you," the blond said, "But welcome to the team, man."

Last came Izzy. Simon had expected a hug or a pat or a witty remark or even some screams, so he was very surprised when Isabelle flung herself at him, almost knocking him down, and crashed her lips down on his, right in front of everyone. It was the best feeling in the world. The soft texture of her lips, the softness of her hair under his fingers, her endearing perfume – Izzy broke the kiss so she could properly look at him. She shoved his hair from his face and smiled.

"You made it."

"It seems so."

"You made it," she repeated and she caressed his cheek. "You're one of us. Now we can truly be together. We _belong_ together. Although as you once said, our love was special _because_ we were different, and –"

"Like a shark and a shark-hunter," he supplied. Simon had a brief memory of that conversation, but it was blurred and fuzzy. Had he been drunk?

"You never told me which of us was the shark," Izzy said with a smirk.

Simon just shrugged. "Go on with what were you saying. And?"

Isabelle shook her head. "And nothing. I just love you."

"I love you too."

Simon's lips brushed hers again and trailed her cheek as he whispered,

"You're the shark."

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Hope you liked my take on Simon's Ascension. What do you think of Simon's choice of name? I know a lot of people's headcanon is that Simon will take the name Fairchild, but in the books Simon often talks about how Luke is like a dad to him and just how close they are. And choosing to be called Graymark is just a way of expressing that and thanking Luke for everything.

By the way, I'm 100% sure that if Simon and Izzy have children, they'll be Lightwoods, to carry on the family name. That's my personal headcanon anyway.

Let me know what you think!

Reviews are Sizzy babies :3

_Ginny_theQueen_


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